


I Will Love You Yesterday

by BlueFluorine



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Romance, Save Arcadia Bay Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-07-14 07:13:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16035548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueFluorine/pseuds/BlueFluorine
Summary: Months after making the most difficult choice of her life, Max relives her early years of friendship with Chloe through a series of unexpected recurring dreams. It's not a place that's real, but it's a place where she can be happy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

* * *

Max woke up in a cold sweat with her heart jumping out of her chest. She gasped for air as she sat upright to help her breathing. Her heartbeat was a deafening drum in the silence of the room. Blue night time light poured in through the windows casting trapezoids of light on the hardwood floors. A sliver of light shone through and appeared directly over Max's eyes. She winced and rubbed her eyes, waiting for them to adjust from her interrupted sleep.

As she opened her eyes and waited for that sense of disorientation to fade away, she realized that it wasn't going away. Her environment was vaguely familiar but still foreign enough to set her on edge. She took a few deep breaths to make sure she wasn't still in her nightmare. Looking at her hands and watching her fingers clench in and out perfectly under her control made her certain she was lucid. When she looked down she also saw she was on a mattress on the floor, and had a sleeping bag instead of bedsheets. The moonlight that came though the windows created strange sections of amorphous shadowy blobs in the room, making it difficult to point out distinguishable details. But when she looked to her side, she saw what was clearly a bed.  _So, a sleepover?_

_But that would mean..._

She got up slowly and peeked over the top of the bed to find the one face that would always assure her that things were okay, no matter what universe she had stumbled into. Chloe Price lay soundly asleep in her bed. But as much as she was overjoyed to see Chloe, she immediately began to panic.

Not a single strand of blue hair was to be seen and she was clearly no older than 13.

At that revelation, she threw the sleeping bag off herself and ran to the mirror. Max staggered back in shock when she saw the reflection. A young teenage Max stared back at her, bearing the same horrified expression, on the other side of the mirror.

"No... It can't be..." Max murmured as she looked around the room frantically. "What's happening?"

"What?" A groggy voice asked from behind her.

Max whirled around and saw Chloe rubbing her eyes and sitting up.  _Shit, shit, shit_. Chloe had heard her. Could she tell Chloe about her powers? The functional part of her brain said no, of course not, because who knows how real this dream is and how it could affect the future if she starts blabbing to Chloe about time travel years before she discovers it? Her gut however was a different matter. Her gut told her that this was still a dream, that she would wake from it and it would go how all dreams go: no matter how real it feels you always wake up and realize how fake it was.

"What're you doing? Checking yourself out?" Chloe asked with a snicker.

"I'm not-!" Max stopped short as her voice sounded so weird in her own ears. She sighed. Max glanced around the room before quietly making her way back to her bed. "Sorry Chloe, I didn't mean to wake you up," she apologized.

Chloe groaned something incomprehensible and rolled back over, pulling the sheets over her head. She waited for Chloe's steady breathing to resume before tip toeing over to her desk. Max was no stranger to vivid dreams, but even in those dreams it was difficult to make out details and sensations up close. Kind of like impressionist paintings. But here looking over the cluttered mess, Max was able to distinguish incredible detail in everything she held. The cassette player had a nice heft to it and its aluminum exterior was cool to the touch. She could even make out the label of her own pirate mixtape inside. She could clearly read the text on various homework papers scattered across its surface. She could even read…

_…the calendar._

A calendar hung over Chloe's desk, which Max quickly took down. The month it was flipped to said February, but judging by the warmth of the room it felt more like summer. Chloe probably just hadn't changed it. The year might be a clue though. She flipped to the front cover and it sent a chill down her spine.

_2008._

How the hell had she come to the year 2008? Was she stuck here? Was this actually a dream or would her actions pile up consequences like they had before? Were her powers still active?

Questions piled upon questions and suddenly Max's vision blurred. An intense feeling of drowsiness came over her and she dropped the calendar, stumbling back to her bed. She passed out before her head hit the pillow.

* * *

Max woke as quickly as she had fallen asleep, her heart pounding like it was before. Bright light streamed in from the windows, heralding the morning. She sat up quickly in bed as everything came rushing back. She was greeted with the sight of her familiar Blackwell dorm room. She rolled over to retrieve her phone from her nightstand. With a click it told her the current date.

_January 3, 2014_

Max let out a relieved sigh. She was in her own bed, in her own room.  _What the hell was that dream?_

Following her adventures with Chloe almost 3 months ago, Max's academic performance had slipped as did her mental well-being. Her conscience wrestled with itself in a never-ending battle that couldn't reconcile either consequence of saving the town or saving her best friend. Guilt gripped her mind every single time she walked into the classroom and saw the faces of the people she had almost sacrificed. If she was called upon to answer a question she would freeze up and panic, thinking that her words would speak into existence another tornado. The very fiber of her being was locked in constant turmoil.

_How is it that you can regret saving countless lives?_

Frost crept up at the edges of the window, and Max opened the blinds. The snow outside was immensely pretty and shone brightly in the clear morning light. She just hoped the paths were cleared so she wouldn't have to worry as much about slipping.

She stepped over piles of clothes to get to her mirror. She calmed down a bit as she saw her more familiar high school face looking back at her. Even though it was her own face, she somehow still didn't recognize herself. She looked much sadder in her reflection than she thought she should have looked. She was getting thin, but not in a healthy way, more of a "you haven't eaten properly in weeks" way. She could tell by the way her neck looked as it protruded awkwardly from the collar of her shirt.  _A well-placed scarf will do the trick. It's cold outside anyway._  Did she always look like that? Maybe she did. God, she looked awful.

Her room was an absolute mess. She would worry about it later.

* * *

Max opened her eyes to bright sunlight and unpleasantly warm air. She was almost sweating beneath this insulating sleeping bag and she quickly threw it off. When she looked down at herself she realized her clothes had changed. More than that, her surroundings had changed. She was back in Chloe's room.

She rose to her feet and briefly surveyed the room before realizing Chloe wasn't there. A messy pile of sheets on her bed showed her that she at least was here. In the mirror she determined she was about the same age as she was in the previous dream.  _If it actually was a dream, that is._  Max went to the desk once more to check the calendar. To her surprise the calendar she had pulled off to observe was still off its hook, sprawled messily atop the pile of clutter on Chloe's desk. It was right where she had left it, and the year was still 2008.

_I'm sure I was the one who moved the calendar. If my actions in the previous dream affected this one, maybe these aren't dreams. I should be careful._

The door to the room was wide open, and given the vacant bed it was likely Chloe had gotten up to get ready for the day. Max peeked out the doorway slowly and found the bathroom door was closed. Hopefully Chloe's absence would be long enough for Max to pick out some clue as to what she was doing here.

Max looked over once more at the room, now in better lighting than the previous night. Chloe's unmistakable decorating touches were all over the walls, in taped up pictures, comics, and hand-drawn movie posters. In half of these things Max could even pick out her own handwriting and artwork. Every scrap of paper plastered on the walls should've helped Max remember what she was doing here, but none of it helped. They were all just reminders of a long gone past, a friendship now dead.

_Everything is so real. I'm not sure if I'm actually dreaming or not._

A loud voice called from downstairs.

"Max! Breakfast!"

Though she was much younger, it was definitely Chloe's voice. Max grew nervous as she began her slow descent down the stairs. Whatever she was doing here, if her actions affected the future, she would be putting everyone in serious jeopardy all over again. She had to be careful in how she proceeded with the day.

_Just go with the flow._

Max realized she was going at a snail's pace down the stairs and sped up as she reached the bottom as to not arouse suspicion. The glorious smell from the kitchen did nothing to impede her. She rounded the corner and her eyes widened much more than she wanted.

Joyce was in the kitchen, cooking up a storm, and William was at the counter, collecting his things before work.

Chloe waved at her, fork in hand, to get her attention. "G'Morning, sleepyhead. Grab some food before I eat this all by myself."

Joyce turned around at the mention of Max and also greeted her. "Hey, Max! You hungry?"

"Y-yeah…" Max stammered. Chloe was too busy eating to notice her hesitation, which Max was thankful for.

"Good morning, Max. Sleep alright?" William asked cheerily.

"Yeah! Uh huh." Max was much quicker in responding properly this time.

William moved over to kiss Chloe on the cheek. Chloe tried to squirm out of it while saying something like "Eww, Dad! I'm eating!" She finally relented as William ruffled her hair, which only bothered her more.

William went to the garage and Joyce finished plating the rest of the food. While grabbing her own things, she turned to Max. "Alright, Max, William and I will be out doing some shopping. That leaves you to take care of Chloe, okay? Make sure she doesn't burn the house down." she said with a smirk.

"Hey! You know I'm older than her right, Mom?" Chloe whined back.

Joyce didn't reply, but simply waved as she followed William to the garage. Chloe huffed and went back to her food, but Max saw she was smiling too. During this whole exchange Max stood awkwardly to the side, almost in the hallway like she was ready to make a hasty exit. Chloe finally noticed and motioned for Max to come sit with her.

Max tried to make her movements as fluid as possible but the thought of engaging in conversation with Chloe terrified her. Here she was, a younger version of the moody volatile girl she had spent a week with in the real time. Watching her so carefree and happy was eerie. Max feared that the moment she opened her mouth to speak would be the moment she gave up her true origin, causing some massive chain reaction that would destroy Arcadia Bay.

She shuddered as she realized all her recent thoughts about her situation were going to the absolute extremes. Maybe she needed to calm down.

Max felt a growling in her belly. She took a plate and helped herself to some food, hoping that her hunger would provide a natural fluidity to her movements. Her hands moved to take some eggs and bacon but the rest of her body felt like it would explode into a panic attack. Her throat began to constrict as her heart moved up in her chest. She felt like she was going to throw up.

"Why so tense, Max? It's just breakfast," Chloe said between bites.

 _She's noticing._   _Just breathe. Calm down._

Max forced herself to smile as she replied, "Sorry. I'm just…really hungry, you know?"

"Tell me about it. Mom's cooking is the best," Chloe replied enthusiastically.

_Good, she bought it._

"Are you excited for today?" Chloe asked gleefully.

Max knew she couldn't be specific, so she replied, "Super."

Chloe reached into her pocket and slid a worn brass key across the table. Max looked at it curiously, but had no idea what it was supposed to mean. Chloe frowned as it became apparent Max didn't understand.

"I found it! I finally got it! Aren't you surprised?"

Max faltered but caught herself quickly. "I-uh, yeah! I mean, how did you get it?"

Chloe grinned mischievously and pocketed the key. "I snuck into their room while they were down here cooking. It was just lying there on his night stand! Can you believe it was that easy?"

"No, that's…crazy." Max paused as she took a bite of food to occupy herself.

Chloe put her elbows up on the table and rested her chin in her hand, acting like some sort of wise seer. She dramatically gazed into Max's eyes. Max quickly looked away and returned to her food.

"You okay, Max? You're acting kinda weird right now. You're not thinking about backing out, are you?"

Max had no idea what Chloe was referring to, but hastily replied, "No, no, of course not! It's just…I had a weird dream last night."

"Gotcha. Is that why you were up last night?"

"Yeah. Couldn't sleep well."

"Waking up from dreams is like, the worst. What were you dreaming about?"

Max's mouth ran dry so she quickly took a swig of milk. "Uh, well I think…well the details are kinda hazy now, but I remember there was…snow." She paused. "It was snowing," she repeated herself.

Chloe raised an eyebrow. "Snow? That's it?"

"Well I can't remember all of it now!" Max snapped.

Chloe just shrugged. "Whatever. One thing's for sure though. No snow on the Fourth of July!"

_Fourth of July? So it really is summer._

Max finished her food while using ambiguous replies to dodge Chloe's questions. The longer Max held conversation with her, the more natural everything seemed to be. It wasn't long before she was able to quietly slip into the character of her younger self. Things started to feel normal again. She just hoped she wouldn't let her guard down too much and accidentally say more than she should have.

Max learned the key Chloe had slid across the table earlier was for a storage cabinet in the garage. Since it was the Fourth of July, Chloe, or rather, the two of them, had planned to sneak into the cabinet and steal some of the fireworks William had bought for the occasion. Even though Adult Max thought that this was irresponsible, Kid Max had to go along with the plan. As Chloe kept reminding her, she agreed to this.

They stood in front of the tall cabinet with rusted hinges. Max held her breath as Chloe turned the key. The doors squeaked open and the pair's eyes lit up. Chloe looked like a kid in a candy store, except the candy was fireworks, and Max looked like the mom chasing after the kid in the candy store, except those candies were also fireworks.

" _Hoooly shit!_  Look at all of this!" Chloe exclaimed.

Max was almost speechless. "That's…a lot of fireworks…Like, a lot."

"Boom, goes the dynamite, am I right?" Chloe said gleefully. _Too gleefully._

She instantly reached for the biggest box but Max quickly stopped her.

"Whoa, hold on. We can't just go for the biggest box. Your dad's definitely going to find out. Let's just take a handful from the small box to try them out first, don't you think?"

Chloe frowned but saw the sensibility in Max's plan. "I guess you're right. I would've just taken the biggest fireworks there are and set them off right here! Good thing you're here to keep me from making a mess, huh?"

"Yeah," Max said absently. "Good thing."

They pulled a few from one of the smaller boxes and put everything back as they found it. Chloe dragged Max by the hand out to the backyard, laughing with excitement the whole way. Once outside she unwrapped one of the fireworks and stuck it in the grass. She pulled out a lighter, but not before Max stopped her again.

"Wait! Right here in the grass? Aren't you worried about starting a fire?" she said worriedly.

Chloe gave a disappointed groan. "Why'd you always have to go and be the responsible one?"

"Your mom did tell me to not let you burn the house down," Max said with a smirk.

Chloe waved a hand dismissively. "Psh, whatever. Where else can we put it, then? I'm not going to hold it, if that's what you're thinking."

Max looked around the backyard and spotted the barbeque grill. The two of them looked at each other with excitement without even saying a word. They both knew what the other was thinking.

Max pulled out the grill from along the wall while Chloe uncovered the lid and began to position the sparkler on the grilltop. The grill was perfect because the pile of ash and used up charcoal at the bottom could hold the stick in place. Once it was decently vertical, Chloe reached in with a lighter.

She took a deep breath. "Here goes."

The fuse on the firework sparked and fizzled as it crept up toward the main body. Max and Chloe jumped a few steps back and waited as the fuse disappeared. A gentle crackling began as little balls of light shot out of the sides of the firework. A few moments later and the crackling got a little more intense, but not by much. Chloe frowned and stepped closer. Truthfully, it was a little underwhelming.

"What a let down."

Sharp  _pops_  and  _pings_  resounded at once as sparks shot straight up and exploded, raining embers down on the backyard. Even in the afternoon, the yellows and reds and greens were intense and visible against the warm setting sun. Sparks continued to fly 10 feet into the air, and Chloe stepped out into the middle of everything, arms reached skyward.

"Now that's what I'm talking about!" she said with a huge grin.

Suddenly the garage door hummed and creaked. Chloe looked toward the house in a panic.

"They're home! We have to hide this!" she cried.

But the fireworks were still going, and didn't show signs of stopping soon. Max ran to the grill lid and quickly smothered the popper. Unfortunately it didn't do much to stop the actual firework. Instead it only made the loud popping sound dull out into an echoing  _pong_  as the fireworks bounced around the hollow inside of the grill. She exchanged a horrified glance with Chloe as they realized she had just turned the sparkler into a large echo chamber where sparks were likely zipping around the inside of the grill.

Before either one of them could do anything, William appeared in the patio doorway.

"Hi, you two."

Max and Chloe instantly whirled around and closed ranks to hide the grill behind them.

"Hi!" they said in nervous unison.

Slightly confused by their reaction, William continued slowly, "So…do anything fun today?"

"Nope!" they replied in unison again. Max almost smacked her forehead with her palm after that response. Beside her she was sure that Chloe was mentally kicking herself too.

William raised an eyebrow. "No, you  _didn't_  do anything fun today?

He was suppressing a look that said "yeah, I totally believe you" but instead settled for what looked like a relieved sigh. "Well, I'm about to get dinner going, so get cleaned up, alright?"

Chloe nodded enthusiastically. "Sure thing, Dad."

Right before William went back inside, the cursed firework let out a single pop that sounded like a balloon exploded inside the grill. Both girls flinched as William noticed the sound and looked around the yard to look for the source of the noise. Max was certain William had connected the poorly concealed grill to the loud popping noise, but was surprised when William responded only with, "I'm going to need that grill in a few minutes," before calmly walking back inside.

Chloe breathed a huge sigh of relief and swiftly stomped out the remainder of the firework. Max was surprised by William's obvious mercy towards the two of them, but remembered again why Chloe loved him so much. Sometimes Chloe was just a girl looking for fun, and William was simply okay with that.

_Oh, God. The accident._

The realization hit her in the face like a pile of emotionally-laden bricks. The year was 2008, the same year William died. In a little over 2 months, William would be gone and Chloe's life would never be the same. Max had disappeared into the character of her younger self without giving much thought to the how's and why's of her appearance in this time.  _Is this just a vivid memory that won't have effects on the future? Or am I actually changing the future right now? And if it turns out this is some strange extension of my powers, will I have to face the same choice to save William again?_

Her gut twisted horribly, either from guilt or something else. A cold sweat began to appear on the back of her neck as her heart jumped uncontrollably. The details of this world were starting to darken and blur as she could only focus on her ability to breathe, as if her body had somehow forgotten.

When her vision returned focus, she realized she was still standing outside in the backyard and it was suddenly night. There was a small fire pit in the middle of a handful of chairs. The warm orange glow and the heat it provided was of some comfort to Max, who had nothing to anchor herself to this world except her senses.

Chloe returned from inside the house, going to Max. Joyce and William followed. As Chloe approached the fire pit, the light gently illuminated the features of her face.

"Hey, take this!" she said, thrusting what felt like a long barbeque skewer into her hand.

"What is this?" Max asked.

Chloe answered by taking her own stick and placing it into the fire. The end glowed and immediately began to spark, spraying bits of blue light out the end.

"It's a sparkler. Now, come on! Dad's going to take a picture!"

Max timidly dipped the end of the stick into the flames which lapped at the sparkler. It began to spark like Chloe's, and Max looked at it in wonderment. William walked up to the two of them, Polaroid camera in hand. Max looked at the camera warily as she remembered its future role in her time-traveling adventures. She didn't have much time to be worried though, as Chloe promptly pulled her close and pointed at the camera with her sparkler.

"Alright, girls. On three! One…two…"

The camera flash blinded Max who definitely blinked as the picture was being taken. She rubbed her eyes and apologized.

"Sorry, I think I blinked…"

When she opened them Chloe, Joyce, and William were gone. So was the house, and the fire pit, and the sparkler in her hand. She was in her room, facing the wall of Polaroids she had strung up. There was one picture that was directly at eye level for her. She pulled it off its clothespin and her breath hitched.

It was a picture of her and Chloe laughing as they held sparklers in the dark. At the bottom of the Polaroid a date was scribbled.

_7/4/08_

The details quickly came flooding back. Somehow this event had burned itself into Max's memory, probably because it was one of her last memorable moments with both Chloe and her father. Max was certain now. It was no dream, it was a memory.

She held up her phone and took a picture of the Polaroid. Her thumb swiped down the contacts list in her phone until she reached the "Add New Contact" option. She entered Chloe's number from memory and set the contact picture. Her phone chirped happily.

_Saved new contact as Chloe Price._

_..._


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

* * *

Max slowly woke up to the increasingly familiar sight of Chloe's bedroom. A day or two ago she would've started to freak out about her situation and where she was, but this time she actually found comfort in knowing that this was just another memory she could live out. A small part of her told her that reliving memories like this was unhealthy because of how unhinged from reality she could become.

But these powers had tormented her to no end, forcing her to make impossible decisions no one should ever be forced to make. For now, the catharsis of revisiting childhood moments with Chloe was something to take advantage of.

Max looked over at Chloe's bed and saw that as usual, she wasn't there. She casually went downstairs to join her for breakfast.

Chloe was already at the table, wolfing down whatever Joyce had made. All the plates of food were already set out on the table, but she was nowhere to be seen. She and William had probably already left for work, leaving the two of them to their own devices.

Max took a plate and began piling on food. "Well thanks for waiting up for me," she pouted jokingly.

Chloe took a bite of toast before replying, "You snooze, you lose. And I mean that literally, because you were snoozing."

Max sat down next to her and started to dig in. "So, I was thinking, maybe we could light the rest of those fireworks we saved from yesterday. You know, now that your parents are at work."

Chloe immediately stopped chewing and stared at Max. Max's heart skipped a beat as she realized she had said something wrong.

"You mean when we saved those fireworks on the 4th?" Chloe said slowly.

Max nodded hesitantly. "Yes…?"

Chloe gradually resumed chewing but gave Max a raised eyebrow. "You know that was last week, right?"

Max's eyes widened in shock. Luckily Chloe was too busy looking at her food to notice. Max's mind raced as she tried to cover herself.

"Oh yeah, last week. You know what I meant. And can we light them?"

Chloe gave her another quizzical look. "We used up the last of them yesterday." Then in a more serious tone, she asked, "Are you okay, Max? You seem a little…out of it."

_Chloe remembered my weird behavior. Are my actions actually having an effect? Am I really in the past?_

"Yeah…maybe I am a little out of it," she admitted.

Chloe chuckled. "Earth to Max! Earth to Max!"

Max smiled but gave her a light shove. "Oh, shut up."

"Still not an early riser, huh? Morning fog got you?"

"Oh come on, like  _you're_  a morning person."

Chloe gestured at the clock hanging on the wall and back at herself with her now finished breakfast plate. "Uh, clearly I am."

Max shook her head with a defeated grin but kept eating. "So what's the plan today?"

Chloe frowned as she took her dishes to the sink. Max didn't know why. Before she sat back down, Chloe went around the back of Max's chair, grabbing her head and turning it side to side.

"Did you hit your head?"

"Ow! Cut it out! What're you doing?"

Chloe relented and returned to her seat, leaning forward with her elbows on the table and her chin resting atop her fists. She squinted at Max, who tried to make like nothing was happening and continued with breakfast.

"Did you hit your head? Do you have Alzheimer's?" she asked.

Max froze in her tracks. She was really starting to screw this up. Chloe was catching on. Even though these were only memories with no effect on the future, she still had to be cautious. She had dropped her guard too much.

She shook her head. "Alzheimer's is for old people, and that's not even how it works. I think."

Chloe gave a disapproving look. "We were going to go swimming at the pool today. Then we were going to roast marshmallows outside and make s'mores. Then we were going to have a constellation counting contest. You came up with all of this, you know. This was your plan. Are you getting sick or something? What's going on, Max?"

Max sighed as she paused eating. "Sorry, I've just been a little…tired, I guess."

"Tired? But it's summer! We only have so many days before school starts. We're not going to be able to do this forever!"

Chloe's unintentionally cognizant remark made Max feel as though a stone had dropped into her stomach. She winced slightly like it caused her physical pain.

_This is wrong. You don't belong here._

"Still want to go swimming?" Chloe asked worriedly.

Max forced a smile and nodded. Chloe looked relieved as she went upstairs to get ready. Meanwhile downstairs Max fought through her growing discomfort to finish breakfast. She buried her head in her hands and groaned.

_What am I doing to myself?_

…

A short walk to the community pool later, Max dipped a cautious toe into the water before walking into the deeper areas. Chloe on the other hand had dropped all of her stuff onto a chair and performed a running cannonball into the water. She swam over to Max, whose hair was still relatively dry.

Chloe grinned mischievously as she threw a handful of water into her face. Max coughed and sputtered.

"Bleh! What's that for?"

"Why didn't you just jump? You're way too dry."

The two spent the afternoon swimming and racing and seeing who could make the best cannonball off the deep end. Before they left, Chloe had said she wanted to take a dip in the hot tub first, but found that it was full of  _older kids_. Both of them were pretty disappointed, but Chloe wasn't one to be stopped.

"What if we came back here at night? When no one's here?" she suggested thoughtfully on the way back to her house.

Max raised an eyebrow. "No one's here at night because it's closed."

"Duh. That's why it's the best time for us to come!" Chloe said as if it were obvious.

"What about s'mores? And the constellations?" she asked.

"Well, the sky isn't going anywhere…" Chloe thought for a moment. "And there's a grill by the pool! I bet we can make s'mores on that."

Max giggled at the thought. "Grilled marshmallows? Now you're starting to sound weird."

"No, silly. We make it into a dip! Like nachos, only sweeter."

"Alright. But how do we get into the pool? Are you going to pick the lock or something?"

Chloe shrugged. "Climb?"

Max knew that she was probably a little more cautious than her younger self, but resigned herself to living a bit more. After all, this was a memory. She remembered how it all went down. In a few hours when she went back to sleep, she would wake up in her room in familiar 2014.

They returned to the pool at night with a bag of marshmallows, chocolates, crackers, and aluminum foil. Chloe also threw in a laser pointer she had found in the garage. The two of them had climbed the gate with relative ease. The only source of light were the underwater lamps in the pool and hot tub, giving the entire area a shimmering blue glow.

"Wow! This is just like-" but Max stopped herself. She was going to say something like "when we broke into Blackwell" but thankfully didn't.

"-totally awesome," she finished for herself. Chloe showed no reaction at Max's awkward pause, and Max once again kicked herself for almost slipping up again.

Chloe went over to the grill and pulled all the ingredients out of her bag. But before she did anything, she let out a short yet loud laugh. Max went over to her.

"What's up?"

Chloe groaned. "My dumb ass forgot the charcoal. And the lighter fluid. And the matches. We have no fire."

Max thought for a bit. "We might not have s'mores, but we do have…"

She took the foil out of Chloe's hands and started folding it. Chloe watched curiously as a small boat began to form. A small pile of marshmallows went into the center, and then…

"Ta da!" Max proclaimed while thrusting out the boat for Chloe to hold. "The S.S. Marshmallow!"

Chloe grimaced as she held the  _S.S. Marshmallow_  in her hands. "Well this is a far cry from our pirate days."

They sat in the hot tub and looked up at the stars, trying to see how many they had recognized. Max wasn't sure why her younger self had suggested a constellation counting contest. Their only constellation they were certain of was The Big Dipper. Neither of them seemed to be any good at this. A small fleet of marshmallow boats danced across the surface of the hot tub, rocked back and forth by the bubble jets.

"Hey, Max?" came Chloe's voice next to her.

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

Chloe took a deep breath before asking her question. "Are you…dying?"

Max sat up a bit. " _What_?"

Chloe seemed relieved by Max's surprise. "God, that's good."

"Why would you ask that?" Max questioned.

Chloe shrugged. "I dunno. You've been acting really weird lately. I thought maybe you were sick and didn't want to tell me." In a softer voice, she added, "You really had me worried, you know?"

Max was touched by Chloe's concern. "No, I'm not sick or dying. I'm fine. Of course I'd tell you if-"

She stopped dead in her tracks before she could finish that sentence. She was so certain, so sure of her own actions that opening up to Chloe with  _anything_  was a no-brainer.

But didn't tell her, did she? This is the summer where she left for Seattle. This is where she disappears on her best friend. And she didn't tell her, not face to face when it counted at least. She acted like a goddamned coward leaving behind nothing but a tape. She wasn't dying, she was moving. And right now she wasn't sure which was worse.

"I'm fine," she finished resolutely.

Max didn't look at her but she knew Chloe was smiling next to her. She rested her head on Max's shoulder and let out a yawn.

"I'm glad," she said. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

This was a memory but she didn't remember it hurting this much.

* * *

"Have you had any alcoholic drinks this past week?" the voice across from her asked pleasantly.

"No."

"Have you smoked within this past week? Cigarettes, marijuana, perhaps even-"

"No."

"Hm, I see. Have you taken any drugs recently?"

"Does Claratin for my allergies count?" she asked facetiously.

"Does it affect your mood, behavior, or anxiety in any perceivable way?"

A brief pause. "No…?"

"Well I'll write it down just in case."

Max sighed as she leaned as far back into her overly plush chair as she could. The woman across from her surely noted her disinterest and displeasure with this meeting, but as the woman made no discernable reaction to said disinterest, Max made no effort to hide it.

"Well now that those preliminary questions are out of the way, I'd like to start by asking how you've been sleeping. How well do you sleep?"

Max shrugged. "Well enough, I guess."

"Do you get recurring dreams?"

"Not exactly."

"Would you care to elaborate on this?"

Max shifted in her seat uncomfortably. She cleared her throat and spoke in a mock air of poise. "Well you see, I've had dreams, but they weren't  _exactly_  recurring. So,  _not exactly_ ," she repeated herself with a touch of annoyance. Again, the woman took no notice.

The woman adjusted her thick rimmed glasses and flipped back a few pages. "Hm. As I recall from our previous notes, you used to have many more recurring dreams."

Max cocked her head a bit in genuine confusion. "Really? I said that?"

The woman nodded. "Yes. For the previous three weeks you have answered 'Yes, absolutely' to the question on recurring dreams."

"What kind of dreams did I say I was having?" In a lower voice, Max muttered, "Did I mention the Loch-Ness monster by any chance?"

The woman nodded as she began to quote Max. "'I've had this dream where the Loch-Ness monster is chasing me on a flying cruise ship and I fed it s'mores to make it go away.' You mentioned the Loch-Ness monster again just now. Are you having more recurring dreams of the Loch-Ness monster?"

Max groaned. "No. And clearly with those other recurring dreams, I was kidding."

"I am still required to record everything you say, no matter how much I thought you were trying to be funny."

Max rolled her eyes and under her breath mumbled, "Why am I not surprised?"

"So then I take it your dreams about Godzilla fighting the giant mutated moth were also…?"

"Yeah," Max said bluntly. "I'm pretty sure I said that after Warren gave me more movies. I think he was trying to cheer me up or something…"

The woman flipped back a few pages and scribbled something in the margins, no doubt a note that Max's previous "recurring dreams" were just jokes. She put down the pen.

"Warren, your classmate? Is he usually the perceptive type? I mean, do you think he could read someone's feelings from just a surface-level observation?"

"Not especially. What does that matter?"

"I'm worried your behavior may be affecting those around you in ways you may not yet see. If even your friend, Warren, who you affirmed is not exceptionally perceptive is still able to see that something is wrong with you-"

"-Nothing is  _wrong_  with me," Max interrupted coldly.

"And yet, here we are," she countered, equally icily.

Max scoffed loudly. "I thought therapists were supposed to be all gentle and assure their patients that  _everything will be alright_."

She smirked. "You've seen too many movies, and I'm switching up my strategy." Her hands came together on her desk as she leaned forward intently. "Look here, Max. I can tell that you're the no-nonsense type of girl who doesn't care for all this beating around the bush, with me asking Socratic questions and you answering them to find your own solution or whatever, so I'm going to tell it to you straight: you're not going to change because you don't  _want_  to change. You  _like_  this suffering."

" _Excuse me?_ "

"That's right. You want to keep on suffering like this because you feel that somehow it's only fair that if Chloe suffered this much then you should have to too. Maybe you think it gives you a sense of solidarity or something."

Max glared at her and scooted up in her chair. "You are way outta line."

"You're punishing yourself because you feel that if no one remembers Chloe's sacrifice that she died for nothing."

"You think so? Well maybe I am! But it's true though! No one knows!"

" _You_ know. You are the  _only_  one who knows. And if Chloe were here right now, do you think she'd be very happy with the way you're moping around? You said it yourself, she gave her life for yours. Does this seem like a good way to repay her?"

Max sighed as she imagined Chloe over her shoulder, scolding her. "Did you actually believe all of that? That Chloe died for Arcadia Bay? That I could travel through time?"

The woman shrugged. "You said you were with her when she was shot. Honestly? For all I know, your "time traveling" could just be a product of your brain trying to protect itself from traumatic memories. Maybe you were trying to see if I'd actually write it down. Or maybe you were actually being serious for once. It doesn't matter. This has never just been about your powers. You feel guilt from leaving her all those years ago."

Max slumped a bit as her eyes lowered. "Wouldn't anyone?"

"Yes. Anyone would."

There was a bout of silence between them as the woman took more notes down. Max took a moment to reflect on her outburst, and it scared her. No matter how irritating these sessions were, it wasn't like her to snap like that. Of course she had been moody these past months, but all it really did was dull the expression of her emotions. She had never lashed out like this.

Maybe it  _was_ a good thing she was here.

In a much calmer voice, the woman restarted, "Let's go back to the beginning of this meeting. I want you to be honest with me."

Max nodded.

The woman paused a bit before asking in a voice that begged for transparency, " _Are you having recurring dreams?_ "

_Be honest with her._

Her mind reflexively went back to the days she had recently relived hanging out with Chloe all those years ago. God, they made her so happy. To hang out with her best friend without worry or care, to live out their lives in blissful ignorance of a terrible future, with blind promises of "We'll call and write every week."

And yet despite all this, she was still from the present. She knew the terrible things that were to come. She knew they wouldn't keep in touch. She knew Chloe was going to die.

Everything was fake and she loved it anyway.

"Nope," came her final reply.

The woman's face fell. She looked disappointed. She was about to press for more, but instead wrote final remarks on Max's paper and closed the binder.

With a grim smile, she nodded.

"Okay."

Max held out a sheet of paper for the woman to sign. She put down her signature at the bottom of a long list of other signatures, each one belonging to her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

* * *

She opened her eyes slowly. Expecting to once again be in Chloe's room, her heart plummeted with terrifying realization as she found herself at least twenty feet in the air, clinging to a tree branch. The bough swayed gently in the wind, but to Max it felt like waking up to a Class-5 rafting adventure.

_Whoa, shit! What am I doing up here? Where the hell am I?_

She looked straight down and to her surprise saw Chloe looking back up at her. She had one hand casually on her hip with the other up to shield her eyes from the sun. She was too far to see her face.

"What are you doing, Caulfield? You're almost there!"

But the encouragement did no good. Max immediately panicked. Her hands froze up and she lost grip on the branch. She forgot how to balance, and with a shriek, fell off the side of the branch.

Halfway through the fall her eyes turned skyward. The pale orange expanse seemed to get further and further away from her. The split second of fall time stretched into a horrifying eternity of terror. She landed flat on her side, crying out in pain as she felt her leg come down on top of a thick branch. Chloe ran to her.

"Max! Max! Oh my God, are you okay?"

Max groaned as she slowly got up. Chloe knelt beside her and supported her, brushing off some of the leaves and branches. Max sat on the ground with her legs straight out in front of her, leaning on Chloe. When she tried to pull up one of her legs, intense pain shot through her thigh. She winced.

"Did you break anything? How bad does it hurt?"

"I'll be alright," she said through clenched teeth.

Max grimaced but the pain wasn't that bad. She was mostly startled from the unexpected turn of events. Chloe helped her to her feet. Max tested out her legs gingerly, testing for sore areas. She poked and prodded around her arm, finding a tender spot on her shoulder that would probably turn into a nasty bruise in a day's time.

_Where am I?_

She was in the woods with Chloe. It was getting close to dusk, and the summer heat was fading quickly. Without any calendars or other time clues around her, Max wasn't even sure if it was still July. Given that her last dream had taken place a week after the previous one, there was no telling how much time she would skip between dreams.

"What happened up there? You were so close to getting it. Why'd you stop?"

Max looked up at the tree she had just fallen from and saw a frisbee caught at the end of one of the branches. It was probably the same branch she had climbed out onto, but she couldn't remember.

_I thought my dreams started when I woke up in my memories. What's happening this time?_

Chloe stepped closer to her. "You didn't space out again, did you? Did it happen again?"

Max opened her mouth to speak but before she could get a word out, Chloe glared at her.

"It happened, didn't it?" she said accusingly.

"No, I-!" Max couldn't think of anything to say except to flat-out deny it.

Chloe grunted. "God, you are such a terrible liar. Something's going on, I'm sure of it. But…" she paused as she looked at Max, who was standing with a slight limp. She sighed and continued, "but let's get you home first. Come on."

Chloe draped one of Max's arms around her neck and held a hand at her side. They made the journey home, slowly and frisbee-less. Having to help Max walk significantly slowed their time. It was nearly sundown when Chloe kicked in the door. But to further complicate things, Joyce and William were in the dining room sitting at the dinner table. Both rose to their feet immediately upon seeing the two girls.

"Chloe! Max! What happened?" Joyce exclaimed as she ran over to them.

William quickly dragged over a chair and helped Max sit down as he ran to the freezer to get an ice pack.

"Sorry, Mom. We were out in the forest again. Max fell from a tree."

"Oh my!" Joyce noticed Max holding her leg and called over, "William, can you get the ice?"

"Already on it!" William returned with a bag of frozen peas and carrots. "It's not ice, but it'll do the trick."

"Thank you," Max took the bag and placed it on her leg. She bit her lip at the sudden cold.

William was holding the phone. "Max, I'm going to call your parents and tell them what happened, alright? If they're busy right now, I'll take you back home."

"Wait, no!" Max exclaimed suddenly. William gave her a funny look. "I mean…I'm fine. It's just a bruise. It's not the first time I've fallen out of a tree," she added with a nervous laugh.

_"Not the first time I've fallen out of a tree?" Jesus, Caulfield._

Joyce exchanged a worried glance with William. "Are you sure?" Joyce asked. "We should at least let them know."

Max was insistent. "I'll be fine."

William sighed and hung up the phone with a shrug. "Alright, Max. If you say so. But I want you to go to the bathroom and check for bruises. If there's purple, I'm driving you home, okay?"

Max nodded.

William held a hand out to Max while looking over his shoulder. "Alright, Chloe. Can you help me get Max to-"

But he stopped when he realized Chloe was no longer downstairs. Joyce looked around the kitchen and living room area but came back with nothing. "She's probably just in her room changing or something."

Chloe's absence made Max uneasy. She was always by her side, especially whenever injuries happened. Max hoped it wasn't the case but had a sinking feeling that Chloe was upset at her and was starting to catch on to Max's behavior. Worry crept up on her but settled down as she remembered that this was all in her head.

_This never happened. You've never fallen out of a tree like this. This is all in your head._

William and Joyce helped Max up the stairs. She limped into the bathroom and closed the door, sitting down on the edge of the tub. She slowly peeled off her jeans to her knees to see the damage. Sure enough, a large purple bruise sat squarely on the side of her leg. She winced as she poked at the edges of the fist-sized bruise.

William had said "if there was purple" but Max had no intentions of telling him. She carefully pulled her jeans back up and went to the sink. Her hands were dark and grimy from climbing the tree. She scrubbed at her knuckles and hissed as she found a large gash on the back of her hand she hadn't noticed before. Taking a towel she gently blotted the area.

Suddenly the door bust open, and in stormed a fuming Chloe. She quickly slammed and locked the door behind her.

Max was taken aback by her sudden appearance. "Chloe! What the hell are you doing? I could've been taking a shower!"

"Shower's not running," Chloe pointed out dryly.

"Well, I could've been using the bathroom!"

She glanced over the sink. "I heard the faucet. I knew you were up."

Max rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Sherlock. What are you doing in here?"

Chloe grabbed Max by the shoulders and pressed her against the wall. Max tried to shove her off but Chloe held her elbows at her sides. Chloe's face was inches from her own and she glared daggers at her.

"Ow! What the fuck, Chloe?!"

Chloe looked straight back into her eyes.

"Who are you?"

"Max!  _Obviously_!"

"Who am I?" she pressed.

"Jesus, Chloe, what's gotten into you?"

"What's gotten into me?" she retorted. "Are you even my friend? Is the real Max in there?"

Max grunted and finally shoved Chloe off of her. Chloe advanced on her but Max held up a finger to stop her.

"Your name is Chloe Price. You were born on March 11, 1994. When we played pirates as kids your name was Captain Bluebeard. You had a cat named Bongo who died and we buried this year.  _Do you want me to keep going?_ "

Chloe was still quite upset but had at least stopped trying to shove Max through a wall. Chloe's hands were on her head as she backed up and paced around the small bathroom.

"What the hell is going on, Max? I feel like I'm friends with two different people. And I'm not just talking about you forgetting things or blacking out. I can't really describe it, but something's there, you know? Like the way you talk, the way you act, it's not the same. It's been happening for a while now. It's...weird."

Max balked. Were her actions actually changing things? If they were, she was really fucking this up.

In a quiet voice she began, "You…remember? You remember how I've been?"

Max's head spun after hearing Chloe's words. Somehow her actions had led to unforeseen consequences that had carried over into her other dreams. Up until now she had theorized that her dreams were like an independent sandbox reality that didn't affect the real world but were still affected by the actions of other dreams. But what if it wasn't like that? What if this was something more? Could she actually be changing the future? If that was true...

The realizations of her inevitable choices piled up relentlessly. If she changed the future, she would have to do everything all over again. She would have to let William die. She would have to face Mark Jefferson and Nathan. She would have to sacrifice Chloe. She would have to relive the events of the entire week with the inescapable futility of it all in the back of her mind. She didn't think she had the strength to do it all over again, no, she knew she didn't. And all because she wanted escape from these very choices that damaged her so.

She felt utterly sick.

So sick that she dropped to her knees and threw up the contents of her stomach into the toilet next to her. In an instant Chloe was behind her, holding her hair back, telling her she would be alright. Chloe grimaced as Max continued to cough and gag as her dry heaves gave up nothing but bile. A few moments later and Max was washing out her mouth and spitting into the sink.

Chloe was leaning back against the far side of the bathroom. In a quiet voice that was barely a question she asked, "You're not okay, are you, Max?"

_I can't keep lying to her._

Max glanced up and looked at her through the reflection of the mirror. Her eyes and nose were red from the gagging. Her expression was dull and lifeless as she continued to process the possibility that her self-made cathartic escape was actually screwing up the future. And yet despite her dreadful appearance Chloe still looked sadder than her. But when Max looked again she saw that it was more than just sadness. It was disappointment.

_If you lie now, you're no better than the Max who left without saying goodbye._

But she had to lie, didn't she? Maybe in her memories this exact scenario didn't happen, but this decision would fall in line with all the other decisions she had to make. She let William die. She let Chloe die. All to serve a "greater good". Now once more she had to lie to preserve that good.

In a low voice that barely reached her own ears, she muttered, "I'll be fine."

Chloe's expression grew dark as she got off the wall. She pushed past Max and threw open the door. On her way out the faintest sniffle could be heard, followed by the most painful words Max had ever heard.

_"Go home, Max."_

The door to Chloe's bedroom slammed shut as Max backed against the wall. She slid down and sat with her knees up to her chest. Her tears blurred her vision and everything went white.

...

The setting sun dipped slowly behind the clouds, the great ball of light turning what was once a flat grey mass into a floating projection of soft light. The waters below shimmered with a randomness that still turned out beautifully. Max watched all of this from a bench atop a cliff.

The bullet necklace dangled between her fingers like an anchor. The weight kept her grounded to reality, to the reality of all she's done. But it also kept her stranded in the middle of life's tempest, dragging her to the bottom of the sea without hope of rescue. She ran a thumb over the painful reminder of what once was and felt the waves crash over her.

A voice that didn't belong next to her spoke all the same. Max somehow wasn't surprised. "You just love to sit here and brood, don't you?"

Without even glancing to her side, Max nodded. She knew it was Chloe. She knew she didn't belong here. But she avoided looking her way for fear that it would break the illusion.

The illusion didn't want to be ignored though, and Chloe scooted up right next to her. Max felt her on her skin, caught the scent of her on her clothes. Chloe was real to her, and she wasn't even dreaming. Max only looked over when the illusion poked her.

Chloe just sat there and stared at her. Her arm is draped over the bench behind Max— _how did her arm already get there?_ —while one leg rested on top of the other. She looked as if she was waiting for Max to say something. Max just isn't sure what.

 _This isn't real. This isn't real_ , her mind repeated over and over. But to no avail. Chloe still sat there with her arm draped around her, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Chloe, seeing that Max wasn't going to say anything first, decided to speak up. "Hallucinating? This isn't a good look for you, Max."

"Yeah? Says who?" she scoffed back.

Chloe raised an eyebrow as she looked around herself. "Uh, says me. The hallucination."

"Goddammit," Max muttered under her breath. "Looks like more therapy for me."

With raised eyebrows Chloe noted, "According to that little slip of paper you carry around, you were due for many more visits anyway."

Max waved her off. "Yeah yeah, I know. It's so good to know that the school cares about me. Just pile on the therapy, as much of it as I can, and that'll make me better, right?"

" _Ri-ight_ ," Chloe agreed sarcastically.

"What are you doing here anyway?"

"This is my grave. What are you doing here?"

"Visiting, obviously."

"Me or my grave?"

"Well I must admit, I hadn't planned on running into you, so..." Max paused as she leaned in to examine Chloe more closely. She shimmered with a strange glow that made her almost look transparent at certain angles. With a saddened sigh Max asked, "Are you even real?"

Chloe looked hurt. "I'm as real as you want me to be."

"Then I want you to be real."

Max couldn't see it, but Chloe smiled next to her.

"Okay."

Her fingers sought out Chloe's as her hand inched across her lap. Surprise overwhelmed her as she actually grasped Chloe's hand in her own. Her hand was soft and warm and when she gave a tentative squeeze, Chloe squeezed back. In her dreams she could touch and taste and smell her surroundings but if she focused on those senses too much she would wake. That's what this felt like; a dream that she was afraid to lose.

Running her thumb over the back of Chloe's hand, Max wondered aloud, "You ever feel like the universe was just determined to fuck you over, no matter how much you tried to make things right?"

Chloe let out a bark of laughter. "Hell yeah, I know what that's like. It sucks."

Max grabbed both her hands and turned to face her. "You have to know, I tried so hard to save you. I jumped through so many pictures that I lost track of where and when I was. I did everything I could but it just wasn't enough. And...I'm sorry. I wanted you more than anything."

Chloe shook her head. "Don't be sorry. You could've had me, you know? You had the chance to save me but..."

"Did I? Your life or the lives of everyone in Arcadia Bay. Did I really have a choice?"

"I didn't say you had the choice, I said you had the chance."

Max cocked her head. "What's the difference?"

"Oh, there's a huge difference. I thought you'd have figured that out by now, Max."

Max frowned and looked out toward the ocean. "Well, I haven't, so spit it out."

"I don't think you made the choice to save the town."

"What are you talking about? I chose to go back and let you die. I made that choice."

"You don't get what I'm saying. I mean there wasn't a choice for you anyway. I don't think there are choices for anyone. I think you've already made the choice. Every diverging path in your life, every decision you'll have to make, it's all been made. By you."

"You're losing me here."

"Max, you don't get it? Your knowledge. Your experiences. Your character. Everything you'll ever do is dependent on your past. Every choice you'll make is just another reflection of who you are. Faced with the decision a thousand times over, you'll always choose to let me go because it's just who you are. You're kind. You're loving. You're selfless."

Max shook her head vehemently. "No. I don't believe that."

"And that's your problem! Right there, that's it! You're beating yourself up over an impossible choice. You think you can control this universe. You think that you can bend fate. You can't. The world doesn't give a shit who lives or dies. Out there it's just...chaos."

"If I can't change anything why do I have these powers?"

"I wish I could tell you. Maybe it's the universe's consolation prize for winning its biggest fuck-you."

Max scoffed at the thought. "Consolation prize of what?"

"To see me one last time."

She stayed silent as she pondered the thought.

"You know, even though we only had a week together, it felt like we shared a whole lifetime. We got to kick ass on one last Chloe and Max adventure. We got justice for Rachel. We had fun."

"And all of that was from my powers."

Chloe prodded her arm. "See? Not all bad."

"I guess. Still though, it sucks. I mean, if what you're saying is true, then no one has a choice. Not even my insane powers gave me a choice. Like being stuck on a train at full throttle on a dead end track. We're all just along for the ride. It sounds like an awful way to live."

"But we do it anyway."

"Then what's the point?"

"I don't think there is a point. Not a given one, anyway. You said it yourself, the track is a dead end."

Max huffed. Chloe glanced at her questioningly.

"What?" she asked Max.

"You just said there's no purpose to life. Jesus, that's depressing."

Chloe nodded sorrowfully. "Yeah. But-" she paused as she saw Max's frown, "-you're moving, aren't you? Maybe not directly under your control, but forward is as good a direction as any."

Max gazed at the sun as it steadily crawled down the sky. She shrugged. "I guess."

"And you're not riding alone, right?"

"Well, there's the conductor..."

Chloe made a face. "No, fuck the conductor. The conductor is an ass."

Max laughed a bit.

"I'm talking about me, Max. You're riding with me."

Max gaped in mock surprise. "You?"

Chloe elbowed her playfully. "Duh. Who else are you going to ride this lame-ass train with?"

"There's Warren..."

Now it was Chloe's turn to scoff. "Ha! He's so not your type. And trust me, I know your type," she added with a wink.

"Yeah? What is my type?"

"I'm thinking like badass, cool tattoo, blue hair..."

"Chloe, you're just describing yourself."

With a smirk she tossed a loose strand of hair from her face. "Glad you noticed."

Max smiled to herself.

"Alright, so who else is on this train? And I mean besides Warren, who's probably that one kid holding his breath every time we go through a tunnel."

"Kate can be there too. She's the quiet one against the window reading a book. But I'll go over and say hi to her because she's sweet."

"I can see that. Oh, Victoria and her cronies are that loud preppy group in the corner that's way too well dressed for taking a train."

"And Joyce! She's there watching us, making sure we're behaving ourselves."

"Yeah..."

They continued like this, describing their friends and family as people they'd find on the train. They laughed as they imagined the different ways everyone would react to the shenanigans they had creatively made up for the ride. But there was still something melancholy about it all. Max knew the train was a metaphor for life's inevitable journey towards death. And sure, it was a bit on-the-nose for the expression "it's the journey, not the destination," but what about when the journey is terrible? In life's train car full of shitty people, she had found the one person who made the journey worth it.

Maybe this was her problem all along. The train is going to crash no matter what happens, so find the person who makes you forget all of that. Do what you love with the people you love. It's so simple.

Until it isn't.

She chose a town full of strangers over the one person who made the journey bearable. If everyone dies, what's the point? It's at this moment that Max realizes she made the wrong choice. Deep down, she's selfish. She didn't want to save people. She just wanted Chloe.

It's this thought that causes Max to break down into guilt-ridden sobs.

The sun disappears below the water completely. Orange haze blankets the sky. The seat next to Max remains ominously empty.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

* * *

"You cover right, I'll cover left, got it?" Chloe said as she pointed her laser gun out from behind the barricade. All around them other kids were scrambling aimlessly, shooting friends and strangers alike without discipline or direction. They were inefficient and brazen in their attacks, not like the cool well-oiled laser tag machine that was the duo of Max and Chloe.

With a decisive nod, Max expertly took out a kid who had carelessly crossed the center of the field where there was no cover at all. Chloe scooted over to the left, ducking from cover to cover, while Max made sure no one crept up on them from the back. They rotated around the perimeter of the arena, sneaking up to tag the vests of those who had their backs turned.

They went on like this until the end of the match; a dominating duo of laser-powered destruction. The scoreboard came out and showed Max having placed at around the middle of the pack, with Chloe slightly higher. They were still a few spots down from first place, but they started celebrating anyway.

Chloe grabbed Max's hand and lifted them both up like triumphant gladiators. "Ha! We won! They got nothing on us!"

"No you didn't," a shorter snotty boy next to them said with his arms crossed. "There aren't teams in this game."

Chloe snorted loudly to make a point. "Says who?"

"Says the rules.  _Duh!_ " he sneered.

Chloe crossed her arms to mimic him. "Oh yeah? Well we made our team so that our scores add up. Together we have twice as many points as first place does. We win!"

"No, that's not how this works!" He looked up at the game attendant expectantly, hoping for him to back him up or at least say the rules, but he just stood there chewing his gum and texting on his phone. The shorter boy huffed and stormed off.

Chloe snickered and began to drag Max by the sleeve to another arcade game. They went from game to game, trying to top the high scores on each and combining their scores when it got too difficult. As it turned out, Chloe was quite adept in finding loopholes in games, repeatedly getting them hoards of bonus tickets from tons of games. Max wasn't all that surprised: the Chloe she knew was an expert at cheating the system, going where she pleased and doing as she saw fit. Seeing her untapped rebellious powers peeking out in flashes brought a smile to Max's face.

But it also brought her back to the present.

Max wasn't quite sure what day it was. She didn't go to the arcade with Chloe all too often, but they weren't complete strangers either. She wagered it was still in the summer or at least before the school year if they still had this free time. The high number of other kids in the arcade confirmed this.  _Could it still be July? Maybe August?_  She had to keep her eyes peeled for a calendar of some sort.

Max knew she didn't have many memories left. At first it seemed like they corresponded on a one-to-one basis, with her memories progressing one day at a time. But her last two memories were weeks apart, not days. If the gaps continued expanding in length she would be skipping up to a month now.

This was her last summer with Chloe. In September William would die and Max would leave. There were no more memories to be had between them. This was it.

The whole car ride back to Chloe's house, Max couldn't tear her gaze from the window. Though this was a mere 5 years before she returned to Arcadia Bay, it felt so different. Nothing physically had changed. The roads were still bumpy and the trees the same shade of green. But it was as if the town's spirit younger; a little more naive, a little more innocent. Up until now, the town had known nothing of the horrific events kept secret at school, or the storm that would descend upon its waters to swallow up its people.

But it soon would.

The rest of the night went by in a blur. Of all the flashbacks Max had been having, this one felt the most like a dream. She wasn't quite sure where events started and where they ended. She would be caught in conversation with Joyce, which would then transition over into a conversation with Chloe, which ended up with hanging out in her room. Max had no idea what she had just talked to Joyce about, or how she had even gotten inside the house to begin with. Chloe was going on about something that Max knew her past self definitely would have joined in on, but at this moment she couldn't do much else but let this dream float past her.

This whole ordeal reminded Max of what she went through while using her rewind ability. Everything and everyone flowed around her like water breaking upon rock. Conversations were impossible to pick out and faces were indistinguishable. The only difference now was that she wasn't moving through time.

There was a blur of warm light in front of her that was getting closer. It flickered back and forth gently like a fire in the wind. As things came back into focus, she realized that it was a fire, or rather several small fires. It was a birthday cake with thirteen candles on it. It was  _her_  birthday cake.

_September 21. It's my birthday._

Her last memory was from the summer, around the month of July.  _Two months?_  The jumps in her memories were getting bigger and bigger. It started on the scale of days, then quickly moved up to weeks, and now she had jumped months. If she had another memory, who knows how long the time jump would be? It could send her forward in time as far as half a year. Where would she be in half a year?

_Seattle._

Max almost gasps in horror. This is it. This is the last birthday she spends with Chloe. One week from now, William dies, and she moves to Seattle. She leaves behind nothing but a tape. All the promises of writing go unfulfilled. All the visits they planned would never happen. After this week in Arcadia Bay, the next time she sees Chloe will be at her funeral. It's a sobering realization that is brutally offset by the sound of Chloe singing happy birthday to her.

Everything comes into focus now, especially the look on Chloe's face as she waits for her to blow out the candles. There is a tinge of worry in Chloe's cheery expression as Max sits there in silence. She quickly recovers and blows out the candles, much to everyone's applause. The smoke rises from the tips of burnt wax. When it all clears, Chloe is sitting across from her wearing the same pained expression from before. Max isn't sure what to say, or if she can even say anything. Chloe can see Max's struggle but doesn't rescue her. All they can do is exchange a long knowing look while everyone around them passes out plates for cake and resumes their chatter. It's a look that they both know well that asks if the other is okay, or when they need to stick close and cover for each other's stories. It's a look that demands no secret be kept from the immortal bond of friendship that makes this wordless communication possible. It's something that says "trust me" without the need for proof. And it's for this reason that Max looks away.

Most everyone had left the party by now, leaving Max and Chloe alone. Max occupied herself under guise of busyness by picking up the paper plates that were scattered throughout the house. Chloe went to the sink to wash dishes. Every now and then Max would look over her shoulder but Chloe was always turned the other way. She wondered if Chloe was doing the same thing to her.

They stayed like this for a while, both of them having no real interest in tidying up the house, but staying silent throughout the whole time. A voice in Max's head told her she was dumb avoiding talking to Chloe. This was likely her last day in these memories, and there they were acting like petulant children who didn't want to talk to each other. This was all supposed to be a memory, but it felt as painful as real life.  _So much for dreaming your problems away._

Max saw Chloe at the dining table with a plate of cake. She poked and prodded at it with her fork, occasionally nibbling on the bits of cake that stuck to the tines. She looked up from the cake at Max, who was pretty much just staring at her. She returned her attention to her cake, looking at it from all sides but never really eating it. Max wasn't sure what to make of the situation but sat down across from her anyway.

As soon as she did, Chloe put down the fork entirely.

"So...you want to talk about this?"

Max shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "What's there to talk about?"

"Don't play dumb with me," Chloe snapped quickly. "You know what I mean."

Max spoke softly while staring at the cake. "You mean when I black out?"

"Is that what's going on?" Chloe asked. From her tone she didn't sound convinced.

"I mean..." Max trailed off, not sure how to respond. Truthfully she didn't know what was happening. She had a clue, but she wasn't going to share that with Chloe.

"Max?" Chloe prodded.

She glanced up to meet Chloe's gaze. God, it killed her to have Chloe look at her like this. The Chloe she was used to in the present had eyes that had seen too much. In her eyes, Max was an innocent doe who knew nothing of loss or pain or heartbreak. Chloe was the one who had experienced everything for them, who had taken the brunt of the world's ruthless torment.

The Chloe across from her was not the same hardened woman she had fought through hell with. This one was a vulnerable Chloe, a girl whose greatest tragedy lay in the death of her cat, not her father. Her life in ahead of her was ready to be lived with Max at her side, not spent in mourning over lost friends.

The tables had turned. Max was the one who had seen too much, who had lost too much. Chloe was the innocent girl who had no idea how much more in life you could lose.

"I asked you a few months ago if you were sick, remember? I've been..." she paused and glanced away, "I've been researching different types of things that can make you black out like that. Is it...a brain tumor?"

"What? No, no, it's nothing like that," Max quickly brushed off.

"Then what is it?" Chloe pressed.

Max sighed deeply and ran her hands through her hair nervously. "I don't know."

"You don't know? Then how do you know it's not? Max, you might be dying!"

"It's not a tumor! I'm not sick!" Max declared.

"So why are you blacking out? Why do you forget things?  _Why are you trying to hide this from me?_ "

The crack in Chloe's voice sent pangs of guilt through Max.

"I just... I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry..." Max kept repeating herself as she buried her face in her hands.

"It's okay," came the quiet steady voice that made Max look up from her palms. Chloe's expression had changed. She no longer looked angry or upset, but not quite happy either. She looked like she understood, though not in the sense that she knew what was going on, but that she understood Max.

"Max, I don't know what's going on with you. I don't know if you even know what's going on with you. But I'm here for you, and we can get through this, whatever it is. I'm your friend and nothing you do or say can change that."

Max smiled weakly. "I know."

"Tell me what's wrong."

"I don't know. Really, I mean that. Maybe I'm cursed," she offered with a shrug.

"Like a witch cursed you? Like you angered some shaman of the forest?"

"No," Max said with a slight chuckle. "No one cursed me. I'm just... _cursed_."

"Just like that? You know, curses have to come from somewhere. I mean, I don't really believe in curses, but you need at least that part to make sense."

"Forget it, it's not a curse. I don't know what it is."

"What  _what_  is?"

Max drummed the table with her fingers nervously. "I have dreams. And these dreams, well, they sometimes feel real. Like, really real. And they're not nightmares, not even bad dreams. But mostly they just make me sad. When I wake up from these dreams I just feel so much regret."

"For the things you did in the dreams?"

"For the things I did while I was awake," Max answered. Chloe nodded slowly, beckoning her to continue. "I thought that having these dreams would help me feel better and come to terms with the way things are, but it just makes everything so much worse. And I'm trying but...I just don't know how."

"Max, I see you like every day. You just turned thirteen. What could you possibly have done that's so bad?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"Yeah? Try me."

Max shook her head. "I can't."

Chloe watched in disappointment as Max got up from her seat and went to the kitchen counter. She began digging through the drawers, pulling out a spoon and a coffee filter.

"Max, what are you doing?"

"I'm making coffee," she replied casually.

She started looking through the drawers, but came up empty. Though her back was turned she could feel Chloe's gaze bearing down on her.

"You're trying to stay awake. You're afraid of the dreams."

Max froze in her search. There wasn't much she could keep from Chloe now. Part of her wanted to just tell her everything that was happening. But this was just a memory. Nothing was real, and as soon as she went to sleep, she would wake up. She wanted her last night in the past to be a normal one. To talk to Chloe about what was really happening was to admit that this reality was real when deep down she knew it wasn't. Already she had spoken of her condition too much. She shut her eyes and took a deep breath before resuming.

"Coffee beans are in the second drawer," Chloe said from behind her. Max glanced back to see her leaning against the counter. Something of a grimace crept up over her features as she watched Max attempt to postpone her suffering with caffeine.

Unbeknownst to Chloe, Max wasn't worried about her dreams now. This was her dream, and she was worried about waking up. She had no idea if drinking coffee in her dreams would affect her as much as it did in real life. Maybe it would work, and she could talk with Chloe until dawn, one last time. Maybe the coffee would backfire, and her real self would wake up and end this dream early. The risk was worth it though, as she flipped the switch on the coffee maker.

_Or maybe this wouldn't do anything to help, just like everything else._

Chloe's voice behind her startled her a bit. "Pour me a cup too. I'll stay up with you."

A smile passed over her face.

After splitting a quick pot of coffee with Chloe, Max was propped up against a pillow in Chloe's bed. Max recounted the days where she and Chloe would curl up on the couch or in bed and talk for hours. With a twinge of sadness she realized that these were those early days.  _This_  is the golden age of her friendship with Chloe and there they were, quiet, torn apart by Max's future traumas. It was not without a sense of irony that the powers of time travel would disrupt even their friendship in the past.

All good things must come to an end.

In an effort to make normal conversation Max asked, "Have you picked out classes yet?"

Chloe seemed surprised by the sudden change in subject but answered anyway. "Yup. Blackwell sounds exciting. It seems like a really nice place."

"Yeah..." Max trailed off. Hearing Chloe excited for school and calling Blackwell Academy "a nice place" was too weird for her. In just a few year's time she would be calling it the shithole to end all shitholes, and other descriptive things like that.

"I'm still worried though."

"What for?" Max asked.

"I dunno. Life, I guess. High school is a big step up from middle school, you know? I don't think anyone from my class is going to Blackwell. They're all going off to public school. I'm over here enrolled in this super preppy school with special programs and stuff and it makes me feel like I don't belong. I mean don't get me wrong, I love learning and I love science, but kids who go to this school have their whole lives figured out. I just feel kinda aimless."

"You'll figure it out. I know you will."

"Thanks. If Max Caulfield says it's true, then my fate is in good hands," she added triumphantly.

Max grinned. "Oh, stop it."

"What? You're like the coolest person I know. And I know that you'll grow up and do awesome stuff one day, so if you think that I'll be okay, then we'll both be great!"

"Chloe, that's just circular."

"So what if it is? That just means we'll have to stick together, side by side, no matter what. I know we won't get to go to school together anymore, but promise we'll still hang out every day after school, okay?"

Max's heart dropped into her stomach once more. She was sure her voice had sounded different with the lump in her throat but she spoke anyway. "Promise."

The moon was bright and clear outside. Max got off the bed and went to the window. Only days before this she had woken up here unexpectedly, not realizing she was in a memory. The same moon shone on what was to be the last night of their conversations together, real or memory.

"Chloe, I need to tell you something."

"What's that?"

"I don't know if I'll be here tomorrow. Mentally, that is."

Chloe sighed heavily but nodded, appreciative of her honesty.

"You're saying you'll forget this conversation. You're going to black out again."

"I might. I don't know. I hope I don't."

"Why?"

"I... I guess sometimes I feel like I'm in the middle of a waking dream. I can't separate reality from fantasy. I lose track of where I am and... _when_  I am. Sometimes I just get really disoriented and my memories go out the window."

"Max, this sounds really scary. Have you seen a doctor for it? Do your parents know?"

"Yeah. But they don't really understand. No one does."

"Then why can't you tell me? Help me understand."

"You can't help me!"

Chloe rounds on her. "Why the  _hell_  can't I?"

"Because you might not be real!" Max exclaimed much louder than she had expected. Chloe shrunk down and her eyes darkened.

The ensuing silence hung thick in the air between them. For a time the only noises heard were Max's own quick shallow breaths. In that one moment of thoughtless reaction Max had nearly compromised her true nature.

In a low voice Chloe spoke, "You're afraid that this is all another waking dream. You're afraid that if you treat this like it's real you're going to lose all grip on reality."

Max collapsed into her seat on the bed, head dipped to her chest. She was exhausted.

"I don't know if this is real or not. At this point I think I might be going actually insane. And if I am, then I don't know the next time I'll get to see you."

Chloe held onto her arm gently. " _I'm_  real, Max."

Max so desperately wanted to reply with "I know" or even nod silently in agreement, but she couldn't. This  _wasn't_  real _._

In a shaky voice she began, "Can you do something for me?"

"Of course, Max. Anything."

"I need to apologize to you."

"Wh—" Chloe blurted but stopped herself. "Okay."

"I'm sorry if this is weird and doesn't make sense but I just need to get this one last thing off my chest. After that, I promise to go back to normal."

"How do you know?"

Max ignored her. She tried to look into Chloe's eyes and begin but had no idea where she was going to start.  _What the hell am I doing?_  Once more she saw not the Chloe she had wronged and abandoned, but her childhood friend who was blissfully ignorant of life's hardships. Every time she opened her mouth she found she couldn't hold Chloe's gaze. It was all wrong, trying to use her memories of their childhood to assuage her own selfishness and guilt. She shut her eyes and felt tears roll freely down her face. Chloe held her hands but she was still unable to look her in the eye. She stared at their interlocked fingers instead.

But it did no good. Words that came to mind to form an apology made no sense. There was so much she wanted to apologize for, for abandoning her in Seattle, for never calling home, for never writing back, for the impossible choice she had to make; there was just too much. And yet for all her wrongs none could make it to the surface before she turned into a blubbering mess unable to make coherent sentences.

She shook her head wordlessly, eyes puffy and nose red. Chloe understood and held her anyway. She just couldn't do it.

Finally Max pulled back and said the only words that she could muster.

_"I love you, Chloe Price."_

The room darkened slowly and completely, leaving only the dimming light of the moon in the corner of her eye. With one last wink it disappeared.

She wasn't even sure if Chloe had said it back. But she felt comforted anyway.

...

She was glad the bus was full and each stop was packed. It made it easier to just lose herself in the crowd. The doors opened, people would rush off, and new people would take their places. Max stayed in her seat, looking at all the faces passing by. It was hard not to see everyone with just a passing feeling of resentment. Each person was a reminder of the choice she made. Heros would look at everyone and be grateful for the lives they saved. Max on the other hand wondered if they even knew who had died to give them life. They didn't, of course. And that upset her.

Her school-mandated therapist had suggested they meet in a cafe, somewhere casual to escape the office walls that at times seemed oppressive. Max wanted to tell her that the  _walls_  weren't the ones suffocating her, but chose against it, in case the school decided to throw more therapy at her. More than anything she just wanted this to be over.

This was her stop. The bus ground to a halt and half the passengers got off.

A bell connected to the front door rang cheerfully as she entered. She asked the host for a table for 2, somewhere quiet. He nodded and directed her to a small booth in the corner, away from the large lunch crowd. She smiled gratefully for the consideration. She slid into the booth and took off her heavy outer jacket. Arcadia Bay was freezing in the winter, and today was no exception. At least now inside she couldn't see her breath cloud up in front of her, though something about the cold reminded her she was awake.

The waiter came by and asked for her order. Glancing through the menu she came up with a cappuccino, something hot and rich to keep her body working. The waiter took her menu but left one at the seat opposite her. Max huddled over in her seat, looking at the empty space. This was an appointment she had been dreading all week. Connecting her words to feelings was never her favored hobby. Photography did the job much more elegantly.

She went to her bag to pull out the form the school had given her. Last she remembered, she was due for at least 8 more weekly checkups before her re-evaluation where they would either prescribe more checkups or set her free to be a normal member of society. She wondered if this was how Red felt in  _The Shawshank Redemption_  when he went to the board over and over until he was finally released.  _Rehabilitated?_

But her form wasn't there. She cursed to herself as she dug further in her bag. Of course she didn't really care to keep tabs on her therapy paperwork, but the least she could do is keep track of the one thing that could set her free. The contents of her bag felt slightly out of place, when she quickly realized this wasn't even her bag.

_Wait, whose bag is this? But I had this on the bus..._

The bell at the front door rang, signaling a new customer. Instinctively she looked up. A taller light-blonde woman bundled in a long dark coat walked in. Her collar was popped up and covered her face but Max could just make out the knot of a bright blue scarf that reminded her of Chloe's hair. Max smiled at the thought but went back to her bag. Or not her bag.

_"Excuse me,"_

Her eyes almost popped out of their sockets right then and there.

The woman whose hair she had mistakenly identified as light blonde stood in front of her. Up close, she could now see that her hair was most definitely not light blonde, but rather a very recognizable strawberry blonde. And the blue scarf...

"Is that seat taken?"


	5. All Good Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter of the story! I do apologize for the long wait. I've been dealing with some personal matters over the past few weeks and at times it's honestly been difficult for me to enjoy writing. But I'm doing better and I'm back with the last chapter. Hoping to come out with another work soon. Please leave a review and let me know if you've enjoyed it or if there are things I can improve on! Your feedback really means a lot.

**Chapter 5 - All Good Things**

* * *

Max sat there dumbfounded, looking up at the strawberry blond-haired girl by her table.

"Chloe?" her voice wavered.

It was her. It was  _definitely_  her. It  _had_  to be her. There was no way it wasn't her. But something deep inside knew it wasn't really her. She was just another hallucination, a figment of her imagination. What was the phrase her therapist had used? An "attempt by the brain to protect her mind from tremendous loss."

That's right. She was here to see her therapist. A perfectly opportune moment for her manifestation of guilt to waltz in. _"Hey doc, you know those hallucinations I've been having? Well she's right next to you."_  Yes, this was the best time to be losing it.

The girl laughed. "Nope, I'm just some random girl who looks like Chloe."

She plopped down in her seat with a smirk. She was being sarcastic, but Max honestly couldn't tell.

Strangely this version of Chloe looked different. She was not the same person she had talked to in her hallucinations. Her hair was not the distinct blue Max had grown accustomed to. It remained the natural strawberry-blonde Max had seen in her early memories. The colorful ink sleeve that had ended almost at her wrist was also nowhere to be seen. Max could still see the 3-bullet necklace she wore everywhere but it was now covered by a light blue scarf that matched her hair, or how her hair used to be. Maybe this was a product of her spending too much time in her dreams.

"What happened to your hair?"

Chloe pointed to her head and laughed. "So now you think you're a bad hairdresser? You seemed pretty confident before."

"I'm talking about the dye. Why do you look different now?"

Chloe made a face. "What do you mean? I've always looked like this. I mean, unless you're talking about this new jacket I got."

"Great. Are you becoming self-aware? Like you're now becoming your own separate entity? Just what I needed before therapy…"

Her cheerful look quickly turned to concern. "What are you talking about? Are you okay?"

Max cut her off hastily. "Just stop. I hate pretending that this is real. Please. I need you out of my head."

"Max…" Chloe grabbed hold of her hands and held onto her gently. Her hands held Max's flat on the table and her gaze peered into her. Max pulled away quickly.

"I can't look at you anymore. Just please leave me alone."

Chloe looked at her questioningly but her eyes quickly widened. "Oh  _shit."_

"What do you mean,  _oh shit_?"

Chloe shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She whispered to Max, "Look, I'll explain everything, I promise. But it's best if we don't talk about this in public."

She got up and threw her coat on while Max remained glued to her seat.

"I can't go with you."

"What? Don't be silly. Come on."

"Me? Silly? I have therapy. I can't just go and skip therapy so that I can hang out with my imaginary friend."

Suddenly Chloe stopped trying to drag Max out of her seat. Instead, she asked calmly, "What year do you think it is?"

Max gulped audibly.

" _What_?"

Chloe motioned for her to calm down. "Just tell me what year you think it is."

"Is this a test?"

"Absolutely."

"2014."

Chloe chewed her lip thoughtfully. Max could tell from her reaction something was wrong.

She spoke in a low voice, as to not startle her. "You're not in 2014 anymore. It's December of 2011."

Max felt like she had just taken a sledgehammer to the gut. "I…I must be fucking dreaming or something…"

"You're not. Max…follow me."

...

The perfectly clear sky provided a biting cold that went straight for the joints. It made Max acutely aware of every step she took toward the lighthouse. Her hands were buried in her pockets and her scarf was pulled tight around her neck. There wasn't any snowfall yet, but Max was sure that if she spit at a street light it would freeze before it hit the ground.

The cold should've been enough to tell her she was completely awake and totally lucid, but Chloe's presence next to her said otherwise. She wasn't like the hallucination she had talked to before. She had opened the door for herself, interacted with the host, and cast her own shadow on the path they walked. She was physical and she was here. But why?

Chloe said that this wasn't January 2014, rather it was the winter of 2011. Some things made sense, like the absence of her smartphone and the lack of certain shops she knew were open in the present. But it all still felt like an elaborate mind trick. The mind is such a fickle thing. How does one determine reality when one's senses are off?

The problem was that this had never happened before. Even in her dreams where she acted out of character the base memory and events were the same. There was always some source material that her mind worked off of. This was different. This was a completely new set of events that definitely didn't happen. If this was 2011 as Chloe claimed, they shouldn't be seeing each other at all.

The whole walk to the lighthouse was spent in silence. Max knew if she were to start, an endless slew of questions would erupt and Chloe wouldn't answer any of them until they reached the lighthouse, which she wouldn't be able to stand. So she kept quiet, for the sake of her sanity and Chloe's bid for secrecy.

They arrived at the entrance to the lighthouse and to Max's surprise the door was no longer boarded up. Or rather, it hadn't yet been boarded up. She wished she could've raced up and down the stairs with Chloe once more when she returned to her hometown 5 years later. She wished things could go back to the way they were, without all of this time travel nonsense. Come to think of it, she wished for a lot of things.

Chloe went up to the door first. She tested the door knob and clicked her tongue as it didn't budge. From her wallet she pulled out a small weathered envelope, the contents of which she dumped into her hand. Lockpicks. Before she knelt at the door to begin, she glanced backward at Max with a smirk.

"This lock is pretty new. I think they put it in after I got caught up here with my guitar."

"Your guitar?"

"I brought it up to the top to play, but I guess the noise tipped off the sheriff and he told me I couldn't be here anymore. Trespassing, private property, blah blah blah, you know."

Max smiled as she saw that Chloe's rebellious streak had remained intact. She had no idea how closely this Chloe was related to either one she had known but felt comforted by her presence anyway.

Eventually the lock clicked open and Chloe let out a triumphant shout.

"Ha! If you wanted this to stay closed, you shouldn't have made it such an awesome spot in the first place."

Max raised an eyebrow. "Where there's a will, there's a way."

"Exactly. Now, come on," she gestured for Max to follow her.

While they used to race to the top as kids, they decided to slow down this time. Maybe it was the cold in her joints slowing her down. Maybe it was the fact that she wanted this moment to last longer. Max liked to think it was just because they were older. They got to the top and found a small table with two chairs set up. Perfect for them.

"Give me a second," Chloe started as she pulled out a blue plastic binder from her bag. With a plastic pen in her teeth, she flipped through pages of messy notes, scribbles, and doodles before stopping at a blank page. The pen scratched audibly across the paper while Chloe took notes. Max couldn't see what she was writing, but noticed that Chloe glanced at her watch before flipping back to the previous page for reference. She drummed her knee with one hand while the other brought the pen up to her mouth to chew on absently. The pen returned to the paper after Chloe made a look of realization. Finally, she finished. The binder flipped back to Max. She peered at it cautiously.

_Date: December 17, 2011_

_Time: 1:35PM_

_Location: Café (moved to lighthouse)_

_Notes: Max thinks it's 2014. She thinks I'm a hallucination. She mentioned therapy again. Doesn't recognize the way I dress. Mentioned hair dye again. Looks cute in a scarf._

Max raised an eyebrow at the last statement.

"Looks cute in a scarf?"

Chloe shrugged innocently. "Yeah?"

Max shook her head with a smirk. "Just tell me what's going on, okay?"

Chloe took the binder back from her and closed it, holding up the front cover. She used her pen to point to the sticky label. Max's eyes bugged out at the sight.

_Time Capsule_

"Does this look familiar to you? At all?"

Max shook her head in response. "What is it?"

"It's a record of all the times you've come here from another timeline. I don't know why it happens, only that you act different, like you don't belong. I started keeping notes on you, just in case."

"How much do you know?"

Chloe ran a hand through her hair. "Well I know your mind is from the future. I know something bad happens and it's got something to do with me. I know something is eating you alive and you won't tell me."

"What am I doing here? I shouldn't be here. None of this should be happening."

"Want to know my theory? I think there's a part of you that feels guilty for something and that guilt is making you relive the past. The notebook is full of other times you seem to forget, but it's always the same look on your face."

"This is  _insane_ ," Max breathed out.

Chloe scoffed. "You're telling me. It took a few tries with your future self before you finally told me what was wrong. I don't know what I was expecting, but boy, was I in for a total mind-fuck."

She started to stuff the binder back into the bag. She was way calmer than Max was, probably from having dealt with this kind of thing before. Max could only wonder how many times she did.

"The last memory I have of you is from the party for my thirteenth birthday. Do you remember that?"

"Sorta. It feels like ages ago, but I remember how I felt around the time. It was a week before Dad died."

"Do you remember anything we talked about?" Max probed cautiously.

"It was the first time you told me what was happening to you. You didn't tell me it was time travel, but it was enough for me to know you weren't okay."

"Anything else?"

Rather bluntly Chloe continued, "You told me you loved me, if that's what you're getting at."

A sinking feeling in her stomach reminded her how she had tried to take advantage of what she deemed inconsequential memories. She wanted to brush it off as just something said between best friends, but she knew if she were to try it would only emphasize the contrary.

Her head was in her hands. "God, I'm sorry Chloe. I didn't—I mean, I know it was a lot to throw at you, but I didn't think it would matter."

"Why wouldn't it matter?"

"Because..."

Chloe shifted in her seat. "Did you  _not_  want it to matter?"

"No. I mean, yes! I... I don't know. I think I wanted  _some_  things to matter."

"And was that one of them?" she pressed.

Max took a deep sigh. "I wanted to fix things. I wanted to tell you I was sorry. But mostly I just wanted to feel good, to feel better. And... I don't know how."

Chloe looked pained by Max's admission. In a softer voice she asked, "Do you think I'll be the one to make you happy? Because if you do, you're going to be disappointed. You of all people should know I'm just as fucked up as you are."

"I know."

They left the lighthouse for a nearby park. After being in the lighthouse for a while the outside air felt even colder than before. Max wanted to stay inside where it was warm, but Chloe wanted to get some fresh air.

A chilly breeze whipped through the trees above the swing set they were on. While Chloe was swaying gently in her seat, Max was staring at the hole she was digging into the tanbark with her toes.

She had to apologize to her. She had to say something to make up for the years she spent away from her without so much as a phone call. Right now she didn't even care what timeline she was in. She had to make this right for herself.

But before she could, Chloe spoke up above the sound of the gentle wind. "I'm not trying to sound like an ass, but I know it could come out that way, so try to keep that in mind when I tell you to  _not_  apologize."

Max glanced over, shocked by Chloe's uncanny mind reading abilities. "Wha—I haven't even..."

"I've had this conversation before. You're about to apologize for not being around all those years. I'm telling you not to."

Max's face lit up with hope. "Wait, are you telling me that I stayed here?"

But when Chloe shook her head Max's expression sank once more. "No. You still left for Seattle. But hey, it  _wasn't_  your fault," Chloe said firmly. "Moving to Seattle wasn't your fault. My dad's accident wasn't your fault, and it took me a long time to see it wasn't mine either. It's just...life. I hope that someday you'll learn that too."

"I don't want to sound like an ass either, but what am I doing here? In the timeline I know, I left you. I didn't see you until two years from now. How come I'm here?"

This brought a smile to Chloe's lips. "You may have left for Seattle, but you never left me. We kept in touch, you know? Phone calls, Skype calls, the occasional postcard with a Polaroid attached because you're such a hipster dork," she added with a giggle. "We hung out when you visited over the breaks, like right now. I don't know how I'd get through all this if it wasn't for you. And I know what happens in the other timeline, but I'm just saying that  _this version_  of me wouldn't know what I'd do without you."

Max was relieved a bit. "I'm glad this version of me stayed, but it won't stop me from still feeling guilty."

Chloe nodded sadly and kicked at the dirt. "Yeah, I know."

"You turned out way different than the Chloe I remember. I wish we could just hang out and talk about stuff like old times but I'm afraid-"

"You're worried about messing up the future. I get it. But come on, talking to me like this isn't going to ruin the future."

"But we're here, aren't we? This is different."

Chloe shrugged as she glanced around the serene park pointedly. "Doesn't look ruined to me."

Max shuffled her feet, thinking of something to say. "So what has alternate Chloe been up to these past few years?"

"I still like to skate. I still love music. I still play guitar."

"Guitar? Now that's a new one."

Chloe sounded surprised. "Do I not play guitar in your timeline? Damn, I'm missing out. You know what, let's go back to my house and I can show you what I've learned. You're the one who taught me, you know."

"I did?"

Chloe grinned. "You thought it would be a good way to keep my mind occupied. Whenever I'm alone I tend to let my thoughts wander. And sometimes..." she paused there for a moment before shaking herself out of it. "Let's just go," she finished.

...

"Does David still get jumpy with visitors?"

Chloe snickered, "Heh, of course. Sounds like that hasn't changed. He's out with mom right now so we should be okay for a bit."

Uneasiness seeped into her bones as Max walked through the front door of Chloe's house. It felt like just yesterday—no, to her it  _was_  yesterday—that she was here. But not really yesterday, rather years ago. God, this was all so confusing. She knew she had no business being in this house or even this timeline but there she was, walking through a completely different house than she was in last night. Furniture was arranged differently, clutter was in different places, and perhaps most importantly pictures were taken down. Max could see a faded rectangle around the slightly darker spot where a picture used to be. She had a hunch of what the picture was.

It was at this point when Max again wondered how real this all was. Every detail of the house she shouldn't know seemed so clear. She could pick out the address of unopened letters, count the dishes piled in the sink, even see the light catch floating specks of dust by the windows. In a dream like this Max could only hope she wouldn't lose herself. It all felt too real.

She ran a hand along the dining room table where she had just talked with Chloe last night. The table was more worn with more scratches and discolorations in the surface. While it was fresh to her, she wondered how much of the conversation had remained in Chloe's mind.

Max could feel Chloe's stare boring straight into the back of her head. Her thoughts paused as Chloe spoke from behind her.

"Thinking about the last time you were here?"

Max nodded. "Last night it was my birthday. I was here. I  _know_  I was here. But everything in my mind is telling me this is all a trick, even this."

Chloe stood there without a word, unsure how to respond. She didn't want Max to spend too much time down here obsessing over little details and such. She beckoned for her to follow.

This is where it all started for her, right here in Chloe's room. This is where she woke up in the past, and this is where she left it. It was strange to say the least to be back here given the circumstances, but Max went along with it if only to hang out with Chloe a while longer.

A picture on the nightstand caught her eye. Before she even picked it up to look at she knew who it was, and her heart sank. Rachel and Chloe looked so happy there. Chloe noticed Max holding the picture. "That's Rachel. Probably the coolest most popular girl at Blackwell. I thought her cool kid status meant she would be a total bitch to me, but turns out we've actually got a lot in common. That picture was from a concert we went to."

Max put down the picture. "You're good friends?"

"Yeah! We're tight like  _this_. I have to hang out with someone when you're not around," she said with a smirk.

Max offered a joyless smile. She was comforted knowing that Chloe had still found Rachel in this alternate timeline but her heart ached knowing how things would inevitably end in tragedy. Chloe misread her expression and added with a snicker, "Oh don't worry. She's never going to replace you."

"No, that's not what I meant," she responded hastily.

Chloe didn't hear her though. "We should hang out sometime, you know? All three of us! But...sorry, not when future Max is here. I don't want to freak Rachel out. I don't think she's ready to hear about time travel. Besides, I bet you get to hang out with us plenty in the future."

Max's mouth ran dry at Chloe's assumption.

_She still doesn't know._

Did she never tell Chloe about Rachel in all the other times she visited the past? Was Chloe still left believing that Rachel was alive in the future? Did she still think that she was alive too?

Max couldn't find it in herself to tell Chloe the truth about their Rachel or herself. And why should she? She had already made things extra messy by telling Chloe about the future, even if she left things intentionally vague. Who knows what could happen if Chloe found out. Maybe she would avoid her entirely, not wanting to experience once more the pain of loss. Or maybe she would stick extra close to Rachel and risk pushing her even further away, as those close to her often did. No, in any case it was better for Max to remain silent.

Chloe pulled out a guitar Max had never seen before. There was a sticker of a blue butterfly on the head of the guitar. The body was much darker than hers, probably made of rosewood or something like that.  _I always wanted a rosewood guitar_. She stopped her thoughts short. Did she get this guitar for Chloe? Chloe did say she was the one who taught her and the guitar in her hands was certainly something Max would've chosen herself, but the implications of that being true were just too outlandish. It would mean her actions in the past had influenced their relationship as to create an entirely new timeline and set of events, all because she had spent a few days out of character.

Chloe picked out the first few notes hesitantly, watching Max stand around her room with unease written all over her. The soft melody of the guitar caught her attention though and prompted Max to take a seat on the bed. Seeing that Max had finally settled down her picks gradually turned into soft strums as she moved through the chords. Max's heart skipped a beat as she recognized the song.

_Goodbye to my Santa Monica dream,_  
_Fifteen kids in the backyard drinking wine._  
_You tell me stories of the sea  
_ _And the ones you leave behind._

She supposed Chloe always did like this song, however different the gentle melody might be from her usual heavy hitting rock tastes. The words to this song were quite melancholy, really. She wondered if Chloe ever put herself into the lyrics, reminiscing about Max and the life she used to know. Maybe that's why she didn't usually listen to these songs and preferred the heavy hitters, so that she wouldn't have to think about the old times. It was probably easier.

Chloe finished the song and put down the guitar. The sudden vacuum of sound left the air thick with tension.

"Max," she began slowly, "in the future where you're from...do I die?"

Max looked back at her friend but found herself unable to say anything. A knot formed in her throat and she felt like she couldn't even breathe. She panicked as she realized the implications of her silence and tried to say something,  _anything_ , really. But it was too late. The look on her face and her lack of reply was all Chloe needed.

"Oh." was all she could think to say. Max couldn't blame her for her loss of words.

"Chloe—"

She held up her hand. "It's okay, Max." She sounded almost disappointed, but not at Max. "I've had this weird feeling for a while now. It's the way I sometimes see you looking at me, like I'm haunting you. That's why you're traveling through time to see me, isn't it? Because you feel guilty?"

There was no point in denying anything anymore. To say  _no_  at the end of all of this would be a slap in her face.

Max let out a deep sigh. "Yes."

Chloe shook her head in awe. "Jesus, I can't imagine what it must be like for you."

Grimacing, Max quipped, "It's like hell but with more friendly faces. I get to see you and talk to you and it's all so wonderfully fake, but I love it anyway."

"I appreciate you not telling me off the bat."

"You're not mad I kept the truth from you?"

"Of course I'm not. How could I be?" Chloe shook her head and went on, "I don't think I'd want that responsibility. To have that thought of dying, constantly in the back of your head? I'd go insane."

"It's in my head, and I am going insane."

"I can tell. I'm sorry."

"It's my fault. I had a choice to make, and I... I thought I was doing what was right, but now I just don't know anymore. And I feel shitty for even thinking about it but…" she paused as she felt her eyes grow hot with tears. "If I could do it all over again and I chose you instead of everyone else, would that make me a monster?"

Chloe didn't reply to her. She only pulled her into a hug. Max found herself buried in the crook of her neck, her frame wracked with shivers of guilt.

It felt so wrong to say it out loud, but she knew it was the truth. Deep down she wanted to be selfish. She wanted to choose Chloe over the town.

She pulled away but found it still difficult to speak with a lump forming in her throat. "You once told me that there are no real choices in life, that this was a dead end track and we could make it worthwhile if we rode together. Do you still believe that?"

Chloe took Max's hand in her own and stroked it gently. "I don't think I ever did. You know me, Max. I'm the one who says we can do whatever we want, whenever we want. I think that's what  _you_  think. You think that we don't have choices because you had to make an impossible choice. I think this life is whatever we make of it."

"But everyone does die in the end, no matter the choices you make."

Chloe nodded her head solemnly. "Well, yeah. That's the beauty of it. That's how you know it's good."

"And what about when it's not good?"

The corners of her lips turned up in a smile as she replied, "Then I guess it's up to you to make it good."

Something tugged at Max's mind and she knew she was about to leave this timeline. The edges of her vision started to blur and she felt lightheaded. "This might be our last time together. I don't know if I'm ready to let you go."

"I  _know_  you're ready to let me go."

"How?"

Max followed Chloe's downward glance and saw that she was no longer holding onto Chloe's hand. Her fingers no longer trembled. In fact, the blur around the corners of her vision weren't there anymore.

Even though she was sitting right next to her Chloe seemed like she was getting further and further away. She wasn't moving, yet if Max were to try and reach out to her she was certain she would fall off the bed trying.

_Say something, dammit!_

Max reached out suddenly. "Chloe, wait! I... I love you. And I mean it."

For a brief moment, everything was still again, and Chloe stopped moving away.

Chloe smirked. "I thought  _you_  thought none of this was real."

"I guess that doesn't matter now, does it?"

"Well in either case, don't you forget about me, Max, wherever you are,  _whenever_  you are."

" _Never_ ," she replied emphatically.

Chloe's voice faded away. "See you around, Caulfield."

* * *

The feeling of waking up from her memories was something Max was growing more accustomed to. The initial headache that felt like sleeping in too long would pass quickly. Her dizziness too would pass. She found herself lying flat on her back on the bed, having taken great interest in the number of bumps in the popcorn ceiling above.

Birds chirped happily outside her frosted window where a winter storm blanketed the parking lot with snow. The grounds of Blackwell Academy lay right outside. She rolled over to her nightstand and picked up her phone. With a click the screen lit up, showing the date.

_10:01 AM  
_ _January 8, 2014_

She was back.

With a groan she rolled out of bed and stepped over her piles of mess. She knew she had therapy in an hour and had to get ready. The more disheveled she looked, the more questions she would get. Blah blah, something about self-care.

Eyes half-opened, she stumbled over something she didn't remember placing by the sofa. She cursed as she looked down and saw that she had kicked over a guitar. Curious, as she saw her own guitar a few feet away, leaning against the sofa unscathed. The instrument in her hand was  _not_  hers. This one was made of rosewood, much darker than her own guitar. As she stood it upright, a sticker at the top caught her attention. It was of a blue butterfly.

...


End file.
